


can you hear me can you feel me in your arms (holding my last breath)

by CassandraStarflower



Series: My Random Tragedies [1]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Canon alteration, I cried writing this, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Neibolt House, One-Shot, Short, The Clown Room, What-If, be prepared to cry it’s gonna be sad, i'm sorry bill, i'm sorry richie, just lots of blood, short but not sweet, sorry - Freeform, the injury is not graphically described, why must i put you through hell, you do not deserve this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandraStarflower/pseuds/CassandraStarflower
Summary: “Richie?” Bill called from the other room. Richie turned and started in that direction- the door started to close.“Richie!” Bill called, running to the door. Richie ran to the door- it slammed- he slammed into it.“Bill, c’mon open the door!”“Open the door Rich!” Bill called.“I can’t!” Richie felt the panic setting in. The lights came on and he turned, the cloth falling off of the furniture- except it wasn’t furniture at all.Clowns.Laughing.At him, mocking.Or: What if Richie didn’t make it out of Neibolt?I’m sorry please don’t hate me.





	can you hear me can you feel me in your arms (holding my last breath)

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t hate me. I wrote chapter Six of ‘when the good times come it’ll all be that much better’ and thought of this.   
> Title from My Last Breath by Evanescence.

“Richie.” a familiar voice whispered from the other room. Richie turned away from where Bill was yanking on the doorknob and calling Eddie’s name- wait. 

Was that Eddie in there? 

Eddie beckoned him and he jumped. “Eddie?” 

He approached the room and entered, looking past the white-sheeted- furniture? Probably. 

He made it all the way to the end of the room before he realized Eddie wasn’t there. 

_ A trick? _

“Richie?” Bill called from the other room. Richie turned and started in that direction- the door started to close. 

“Richie!” Bill called, running to the door. Richie ran to the door- it slammed- he slammed into it. 

“Bill, c’mon open the door!” 

“Open the door Rich!” Bill called. 

“I can’t!” Richie felt the panic setting in. The lights came on and he turned, the cloth falling off of the furniture- except it wasn’t furniture at all. 

Clowns. 

Laughing. 

At him, mocking. 

He turned fully and a clown was right behind him, grinning and laughing- he screamed, smacking his back painfully into the door as he jumped back.

His breaths slowed when he realized the clowns were plastic. 

_ Deep breaths, Richie. Big Bill’ll get you out of here _ . 

_ (but what if) _

He cautiously approached one particularly creepy clown and reached up. Hesitated. Tapped it. Nothing happened. 

“Stupid clowns.” he mumbled. 

Two more cloths dropped from a window and- a coffin. 

“Oh fuck.” he whispered as the coffin creaked open. Inside the lid was the missing poster, with FOUND painted over it in blood. He walked slowly toward it. 

There was something wrapped in a shroud inside. He knew what a shroud looked like. They’d used them for his aunt and cousin when they’d been buried. 

He knew what was underneath. 

_ Is it gonna be- _

He pulled the shroud away and froze. 

_ me  _

maggots crawling out of one clouded eye and squirming along the jaw. 

He thought of the roadkill he’d seen once on a ‘family nature walk’ during one of the times his parents had tried to give a shit about him. Maggots squirming through bloody fur. He’d run back to his parents crying and his father had hit him and told him to ‘stop whining dammit, it’s just a fucking animal grow up crybaby’. 

The mouth was stitched shut. He nearly reached up to his own mouth. 

(it looks like me but it’s a doll what the hell no no no shit mememememe oh god)

He voiced his feelings by letting out a disgusted noise and slamming the coffin. 

It slammed right back open and he leaped back as a clown sprang out and landed on the lid. His heart pounded. He couldn’t breathe. The clown smirked. 

“Beep-beep Richie.” it said. Then it leapt at him. 

Outside, Bill was desperate to get the door open. IT wouldn’t open- it had to be jammed or something. Had to be. Any minute, it would pop open and he’d get Richie out and they’d go get Eddie and they wouldn’t split up this time. 

Richie started screaming on the other side of the door. 

“Richie! RICHIE!” Bill screamed, rattling the door, terrified. 

The screaming continued unabated. Pain. 

“RICHIE!” Bill shrieked. “RICHIE!” 

The screaming stopped. The door drifted open. Bill ran inside heedlessly. 

Richie lay on the floor in a pool of blood, eyes closed. His breathing was there- shallow, yes, but there. Bill crashed to his knees next to his friend, shaking. 

“Richie?” he asked, voice trembling (please answer me please please please)

Richie’s eyes opened. “Bill…?” 

“Y-y-yes, it’s m-me-” Bill was already crying. He knew. The pool of blood was big. No way to fix this now.  _ My fault _ . 

He slid his hands under Richie’s back and carefully pulled him close, tears running down his face. 

Richie let out a tiny hoarse cry of pain and Bill flinched. “Sorry, s-s-sorry.”

Richie turned his face toward Bill’s shirt, eyes closing and opening again. “Stop ‘pologizing, Bill.” he mumbled. 

Bill briefly cupped Richie’s face. “This i-i-i-is m-muh-muh-m-my fault…” 

“Well I’m th’ idiot who… followed you…” Richie’s voice failed several times. Bill swallowed. 

_ I love him so much and he’s dying and oh god this is my fault I killed him as good as if I’d stabbed him myself it’s like Georgie all over again except this is Richie and he’s dying oh god no _

He was covered in blood now, Bill noted vaguely. He couldn’t bring himself to care. All his hopes had come crashing down. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Richie twisted his fingers weakly into Bill’s shirt. “Hey- don’t…”

“I- I l-l-love you.” Bill managed through his sobs. Richie looked at him, eyes starting to go glassy. 

“Love you too…” he mumbled, gripping Bill’s shirt. “Don’t cry, Billy. You gotta get Eddie… gotta get out, ‘kay? You c’n leave me in here… not like m’ parents give a shit…” 

Bill started crying harder, holding Richie as the other boy died. “I’m n-not leaving y-y-you in here.” 

Richie looked at him, opened his mouth to speak, and died. Bill dropped his forehead onto Richie’s and sobbed. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there before getting up and carrying Richie down the stairs. Remembering what Richie said, he left the body at the foot of the stairs and ran toward the sound of Eddie’s screams. 

It wasn’t until the monster had retreated and Eddie’s arm had been snapped into place that Stan asked. 

“Where’s Richie?” 

Bill froze. 

“Where’s Richie, Bill? Bill?”

“H-h-he’s-” Bill started sobbing and led them out of the room to where the body lay at the foot of the stairs, limp and bloody. Bev inhaled sharply. Eddie and Stan both started crying. 

“No.” Stan mumbled. Bill stumbled across the floor and picked the body up again. 

“W-we need t-t-tuh-t-to get out.” Bill said through his tears. 

“ _ No _ .” Stan repeated. Mike put an arm around the blond’s shoulders and led him out, face blank with shock. Ben was trembling, but he did the same this with Eddie, who was shaking and crying and staring numbly at Richie while he cradled his broken arm. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They ended up putting Richie’s body where they knew it would be quickly found. Bill threw his clothes in the laundry after a lesson from bev on how to get bloodstains out of clothes. 

He stepped into the shower and sobbed. Washed Richie’s blood off of himself but knew. It would never come off. Never. 

This was his fault. All his fault. 

**Author's Note:**

> I cried.   
> Okay, this is terrible, but it’s just a short little thing I wrote after writing Chapter Six of my main It story, ‘when the good times come it’ll all be that much better’, based off of Bill’s nightmare.   
> Please leave a comment or kudos, it means a lot to me! (And I always check out the stories and bookmarks that you guys have!)


End file.
